Ice Skating at The Pond | Story Time Tuesday

I walk through the snow, my jacket is zipped up all the way, I have my warmest socks on and a knit hat on my head. My hands are numb as I lace up my ice skates. It's hard to do with mittens on, so I have to lace them up with bare hands. Sometimes I lace up Samantha's skates and she laces mine. That's what sisters do for eachother. I take the first step onto the ice and it's like a symphony, the blades of my skates glide across the ice, the snowflakes sparkle in the afternoon sunlight and the birds chirp a happy melody.

When I was younger my siblings and I would go to the local pond to ice skate and play makeshift hockey. We would twirl and whirl all around the perimeter of our little ice rink, scarves flapping in the breeze and snow down to the ground. It was the coolest thing ever, but apparently no one else knew about this pond/amazing frozen wonderland so there was never anyone else there. But that also meant that nobody was there to shovel the snow of the ice.

So we shoveled it. We shoveled for hours. Sometimes we shoveled while it snowed. We probably spent as much time shoveling as we did skating. It was always really, really cold, but we didn't care. All this to say that we were extremely dedicated to skating. I was pretty much team USA ready. I could spin in a circle, without falling over. 

I haven't skated at the pond since 2012, but maybe this winter I will get my ice skates out from the corner of my closet, lace them up with numb fingers and twirl and whirl once again.